


The Most Important Lesson of All

by luckjustkissedyouhello



Category: Orbiting Human Circus of the Air (Podcast)
Genre: 5 + 1, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Friendship, Gen, Hiding an injury, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Near Death Experiences, OHC Fanwork Exchange 2020, Paris (City), julian's stepfather makes a brief appearance in a non-graphic flashback
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:07:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25205212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckjustkissedyouhello/pseuds/luckjustkissedyouhello
Summary: 5 lessons Julian the Janitor learns during a dark night in Paris, plus the most important lesson of all.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo, OHC Gift Exchange





	The Most Important Lesson of All

**Author's Note:**

> See end notes for CWs.
> 
> This fic is for Ollie, one of the most patient people ever, who didn't complain that this fic is roughly 3 months overdue. It's been a rough three months, and Ollie's kindness made it better for me. I hope you enjoy this.
> 
> Beta Read by MooniBinBon (tumblr) aka AlertsDon’tExist (here on Ao3).
> 
> Follow me at rollercoastermoon on tumblr, if you'd like!
> 
> 7/15/20 eta: dudes....i thought it was Jon not John. I fixed that because it was upsetting me to leave it Jon.

### ONE.

Paris, late at night. At the Eiffel Tower, the audience have all shuffled out of the Grand Ballroom after the night’s show. We find Julian, janitor at the Eiffel Tower, sitting on the railing of the highest Observation Deck, once again woefully ignoring his narrator’s concern about the _very_ long drop to the concrete below.

“Don’t be silly. I’ve got my feet hooked. See?” Julian responds, rattling the metal, and indeed, he does have his dirty, decrepit, deteriorated -- “That last one was a stretch,” -- black work boots hooked behind the vertical posts. 

“ _I don’t see how that would stop you from--_ ” Your humble narrator does not get to finish his well thought out argument, because, suddenly, _everything_ goes dark. All of Paris has disappeared into the darkness. It is a moonless night - there is no light. 

The Janitor makes a startled sound, and he begins to breathe fast. Oh no! Julian may not be afraid of heights, but he is very much afraid of the dark. 

“I’m not afraid of the dark,” Julian whispers. He sounds breathless and terrified. 

“ _Then why are you afraid right now?_ ” 

“I’m afraid of what the darkness could be hiding.” 

The Janitor thinks of a moment from his childhood. In the memory, The Janitor is tip-toeing into the kitchen for a glass of water after a terrible nightmare about his stepfather. When he turns around from the sink, the man that haunts his days and nights, steps out of the shadows, looming impossibly large over him. In his shock, young Julian drops the glass of water in his hands. It is so much like his nightmares, but his stepfather is very real, and _very_ angry to find young Julian out of bed...the rest...the rest I don’t want to describe. I’m sure you can understand why. Nor do I want to share with you the sounds adult Julian makes, between ragged gasps for breath that seem to give him no oxygen 

“ _Julian, listen to me: breathe. You’re safe. You’re high up on the Eiffel Tower. That’s just a memory. He’s not here, Julian. He can’t hurt you anymore. Breathe,_ ” your humble narrator continues on for some time in that manner - until finally, _finally_ , Julian begins to breathe slower, deeper. 

“ _Please come down off the railing now._ ” I would be lying if I said there isn’t a pleading tone in my voice. 

“Yeah...Yeah, okay…” The Janitor’s voice is shaky, but his breathing is under control. 

The Janitor turns, one leg over the railing, ready to climb down when he is startled by the sound of heavy footfalls. They sound angry. 

Julian’s hands come up off the railing, trying to protect his face from the blows he is sure to come, cowering he is leaning _away_ from the footsteps! “ _No! Julian! You’re on the—_ ” 

Julian lets out a scream as he tilts dangerously to the side, out over the open air, the horrifically long drop—He’s going to fall! He’s got one foot still hooked in the railing, and that’s the one thing that saves him from immediately falling to the concrete countless stories below. But it is a precarious position, all his weight resting on that single foot hooked into the space between the railing supports that is just a tiny bit narrower than Julian’s booted foot. He scrambles blindly trying to grab at the railing, but he can’t quite reach it! 

A hand, a _large_ hand, curls around Julian’s bicep. The Janitor flails, manages to catch hold of the cloth of the large man’s shirt. His fear of falling to his death to the pavement below overrides his fear of the hulking stranger stomping at him in the darkness. He thinks the man is saying something, but fear has made all the blood rush to his ears, he can’t really hear anything but the rumble of being tossed around underwater against the sand at the sea (it’s a comforting sound). A clatter, and Julian sees there is a beam of light, pointing out into the darkness of Paris, and the man’s other large hand grabs The Janitor’s shirt collar. The light, a flashlight, Julian realizes, rolls off the Observation Deck and spins it’s way down to the ground, the beam of light cutting through the darkness as it tumbles. He watches it, with the distant kind of fascination one only can gain in these kinds of terrifying situations. _That’s beautiful,_ he thinks, but then the man pulls, and Julian lets out a cry as his trapped foot protests the movement, before it slips free and their combined weight and momentum throws them both to the Observation Deck floor. 

The Janitor curls up. All he can feel is the terror coursing through his veins. His arms are over his head, protecting himself. But...but there is no danger. 

“ _Julian. There is no danger. You are safe. You almost fell. Nobody is here to hurt you. He_ saved _you, Julian. Listen._ ” 

And, Julian listens to his narrator. He drops his arms down, and _listens_. A voice in the darkness, a voice he knows well, is saying: “Holy shit, kid. I thought you were gonna die. Oh my God. Holy fucking shit—are—are you okay? Talk to me kid. Fuck—“ There are large hands pawing at him, in his hair, trailing across his shoulders, pulling him into an awkward, blind embrace, as they lay there on the floor. Julian does not yet dare touch the larger person back. 

“Jacques?” Julian’s voice is timid, afraid to be wrong, but there is no mistaking that combination of deep rumble and foul language as anyone but Jacques the stagehand. 

“Fuck...yeah, kid. It’s me. It’s so fuckin’ dark I can’t see you but it’s me.” 

And, now knowing who the large hands belong to, The Janitor doesn’t shrink away. He leans slightly into the touch, and then, bravely (for him) reaches out and closes his hand around the man’s wrist. After nearly falling to his death, the horrible flashback of a time he tries so hard to _never_ remember, Julian could use the extra physical connection. And, maybe, maybe Jacques could too. Because, before The Janitor knows what is happening, Jacques lets out a wet sounding sigh, and sits up, pulling Julian to his chest in an absolutely bone crushing hug. 

The Janitor doesn’t know the last time he’s been hugged, he can’t remember. Julian is cradled against the man’s massive chest (seriously, Jacques dwarfs The Janitor, it's rather cute). Julian finds himself wrapping _his_ arms around Jacques as well, face smushed up against the man’s sternum. He can’t get his fingers to touch behind Jacques’ back, the man is so much bigger….It feels _safe_. Julian can hear Jaceques’ heart pound. He’s sure his own is pounding just as hard. 

The two sit like that, clinging and just breathing, the shared horrors of almost dying and almost not being able to save someone from death making both men shake in the embrace. The Janitor has never felt so comforted after a scare - he usually only has me, his incorporeal narrator to comfort him. This...this he finds, is much better. 

[ **Lesson One:** Terror isn’t the only thing that darkness can hold. Sometimes, if one is lucky, there just might be a friend there in the dark.]  


### TWO.

Some time later, Leticia comes across the pair. Their shaking has stopped, for the most part, but they are still reluctant to separate . Julian has decided that if he’s crushed against Jacques’ massive frame, nothing bad from the darkness can get him. Jacques, for his part, is convinced that The Janitor will only find another way to injure himself _or worse_ if he lets go of the smaller man.

So neither man initiates letting go until footfalls on metal are heard, followed by: “Jacques, where are you!?” Shouted from a stage manager that sounds to be at her wit's end. 

“Here, Leticia,” Jacques calls out, quieter than he normally would yell. He’s not sure The Janitor is awake, he’s so quiet. Julian, for his part, was staying as still and quiet as possible, so he didn’t make Jacques let him go. Considering the last time Julian was held by anyone was when Leticia carried him down the stairs of the tower after the polar bear attack, can you blame the man? _I_ don’t, and I’ve never been held at all. 

The Janitor looks up at Leticia, eyes wide. He expects...something, he’s not sure what. Reproach for being caught in such an unmanly embrace, on the Observation Deck floor, perhaps? For holding Jacques up from doing whatever it is Leticia wants him to do? Julian doesn’t know how to expect Leticia to react, and that scares him. 

Jacques seems to be able to tell he is in some kind of distress, because the other man rubs his large hand in a big circle on The Janitor’s back. Just one hand spans almost all of Julian’s back. 

“What has happened?” Leticia asks, squinting suspiciously at the men in front of her. “We have been looking for you, Jacques, for nearly thirty minutes!” 

“I—I—“ The Janitor starts, but his voice is hardly there. He has to take a breath and swallow back his nerves.“I’m sorry, Leticia. It was my fault.” He says, and regretfully starts to pull himself away from the large, warm comfort of Jacques’ embrace. 

Jacques releases him, and the two of them clamber to their feet. The Janitor’s right ankle (the one that had been hooked between the support beams of the railing and kept him from falling) twinges with pain as he stands on it, and he immediately tries to shift his weight off of it, but Jacques, who rose quicker, catches him by the arm, thinking he’s going to faint. Julian lets that happen, and he is secretly glad that Jacques doesn’t let him go when he shifts to standing fully on both feet (Jacques’s hand is warm and steadying, and the Janitor finds he really doesn’t want Jacques to let go of him). He is good at hiding pain from people, once he knows to expect it - though I wish he wouldn’t. 

“I scared the shit out of him and he almost went over the railing!” Jacques tells Leticia. “He was hanging by his fucking foot! He coulda died!” 

“He saved my life!” The Janitor says at the same time, voice in awe that Jacques did such a thing. 

Leticia gasps, and raises her flashlight beam up from where it was pointed at their chests (well, Julian’s chest, Jacques’ hips), to look at their faces, the beam going back and forth between the two of them, before she lets out several curses in French, and launches herself at the two men, nearly knocking The Janitor to the floor (if it weren’t for Jacques still holding onto his arm, Julian would have gone down), and wrapping them both in a tight embrace. Stabilized, Jacques lets go of Julian’s bicep to wrap around Julian’s back, closing the hug in. 

Julian finds having two people in on the hug with him is just as wonderful as one. He raises his free arm not currently crushed against Jacques, to hug Leticia back. A moment passes, then, taking a deep breath, Leticia leans back, on hand on each man’s shoulder. In the dim light cast by Leticia’s downward facing flashlight, The Janitor can just make out the hint of tears in her eyes and drying on her cheeks. He can feel the tightness of drying tears on his own face, and he’s afraid to see if Jacques looks the same way. From the wetness in everyone’s breathing during the bone crushing hug, it may be a given. No one comments on the tears, though, and Julian is grateful. 

“You need to be more careful on the tower, Julian,” she says, and I couldn't agree more. Maybe he’ll listen to her. 

“Yeah, kid,” Jacques agrees. 

Now there are two of them urging him to be careful. Julian feels himself go red, and he’s not sure why. He nods.”I’ll—“ he has to stop, to swallow because his voice is embarrassingly unsteady, before going on. “I’ll be careful,” he promises them both. His voice still shakes as he says the words. But neither person standing there on the Observation Deck with him says a word about the uneven timber. 

Instead, Leticia nods. “Good. Now come on down stairs.” 

Julian thinks Leticia is talking to Jacques, he is the one she came looking for, after all, but when Jacques walks forward, he doesn’t remove his hand from The Janitor’s back, and Julian is pushed forward with him. Jacques’s hand comes to rest at the back of Julian’s neck, like he is an unruly yet endearing small kitten who’s owner is, none-the-less quite fond of, despite its penchant for trouble. 

That is, incidentally, exactly how Jacques feels about Julian in this moment, and many others. 

  
[ **Lesson Two:** It is okay to let others see how you are feeling. If that person is a friend, they won’t even mention your tears.]

* * *

### THREE.

Walking down the many stairs of the Eiffel Tower hurts, though The Janitor is careful not to show it. As they walk, Leticia fills the two men in on what is going on: seemingly all of Paris is in the midst of a black out. The Tower, Julian learns, has no generator. Luckily, the elevator had been on the level of The Grand Ballroom, and the staff were sure that nobody was trapped inside. The idea of being trapped inside a metal box suspended in darkness makes The Janitor shudder, and Jacques pats his back comfortingly - Jacques continues to walk next to Julian, his large hand still resting on his back, steering Julian down the stairs with him and Leticia. The Janitor had tried to escape to his Janitor's Closet, but the other two had exchanged a look over his head and pushed onwards towards The Grand Ballroom. Julian didn’t want to argue, so he went with them...and it was kind of nice, having Jacques’s hand on his back. It was reassuring in the darkness not blocked by Leticia’s meager flashlight. Julian tries not to think of how dark his closet will be once the others leave - maybe he can get Leticia to lend him the flashlight?

Soon, they join the others, standing backstage. Francois looks relieved to see Jacques, and opens his mouth to ask a question, many questions, probably, but Jacques shakes his head. The Janitor misses this, since he is once again studying the floor, surrounded as he is by so many people. Hey, at least some of them are pointing their flashlights down, and he can even see the floor...of course, The Janitor would _love_ to say something in response to my observations, but he won’t, given that even as socially isolated as he is, Julian knows having a fight with your inner narrator is bound to raise a few eyebrows. So he just has to hear my advice and stay silent about it when he doesn’t agree. Maybe one day he’ll even _listen_ to my advice. 

He’s hardly listening to the conversation going on around him, mind you. He just lets the warmth of it wash over him. The stagehands seem to be trying to decide what to do. Without traffic lights, the streets of Paris will be gridlocked. They’re sure the buses won’t go far, if they’re running at all. No, they’ve just seemed to decide, it’s best to stay at The Tower, when there’s a loud crash. 

Everyone turns their flashlights in the direction of the sound. Everyone but Jacques, who lost his, and The Janitor, who never had one to begin with, that is. Julian must flinch at the sound, and he makes a small noise of distress. Jacques, who had let go of him to talk animatedly with his fellow stagehands, wraps a heavy arm across Julian’s shoulders, holding him steady, close. 

“I got ya, kid,” Jacques says quietly to The Janitor. Julian is so shocked by the protective note in the other man’s voice he finds himself just nodding silently, unable to find his voice to respond. 

There’s another crash! Julian realizes his fist is closed around the fabric of Jacques’s shirt, for the second time tonight. Jacques notices, but doesn’t say a word. It’s nice to have something to focus on, to protect, Jacques thinks, rather than be afraid for himself. There are flashlight beams dancing around the whole backstage area, looking for the cause, the other stagehands are shouting greetings and nervous pleas for whomever it is to show themselves. 

The door to John Cameron’s dressing room is thrown open! Even The Janitor, who is standing some distance away from him, and is half hidden behind Jacques’s bulk (when did that happen, Julian wonders - he hadn’t noticed Jacques put his body between the source of the sound and Julian, but it happened sometime while The Janitor was too focused on the lights flashing wildly around the backstage area) can see that John is disheveled. 

“What is going on?” John Cameron demands. “Why is it so dark? Why are you all pointing flashlights at me--” 

“--John?” Leitica cuts in, and the rest of the stagehands fall silent. All at once, they’ve seem to have decided that this is a job best handled by their boss. 

Leticia moves closer to John Cameron, who is wavering, just slightly, as he stands in the doorway to his dressing room. “John!” She sounds scandalized, even The Janitor can hear. “Are you drunk?” 

“Of course I’m not sober, it’s the middle of the night! Why wouldn’t I be drunk? What are you all doing here, still? Who turned out the lights?” 

“Oh, John,” Leticia sighs. “You must’ve fallen asleep. There is a blackout. All of Paris is dark.” 

The Janitor gets the feeling this is a very private conversation happening in front of all of them. He starts to pull away, but Jacques’s heavy arm is still across his shoulder, and the arm tightens around him. “You’re good, kid,” he says in the same quiet voice as before. 

Julian doesn't know what to say, to explain why he feels like they shouldn’t be listening to what is rapidly becoming an argument between John Cameron and Leticia, so instead, he just goes still. Dimly, he realizes he’s still holding onto Jacques’s shirt and lets go. 

  
[ **Lesson Three:** A friend will try and protect you from the scary things in life.]

* * *

### FOUR.

Somehow, Leticia has forced John Cameron into agreeing that the stagehands all go to his apartment, which is only about a ten minute’s walk from The Tower. John Cameron looks kind of bewildered, like he doesn’t think he _wants_ everyone back at his apartment and is unsure how he agreed in the first place. Arguing with Leticia can do that to a man if he’s sober. John is decidedly not sober. He’ll be fine. Eventually.

The Janitor is quite sad to see them all leave. He might even be scared by the prospect - The Tower will be very dark, and very silent. The group starts towards the stairs down to the ground level, and Julian tries to hang back. He doesn’t want to climb back up all those stairs with his ankle hurting as it does. 

“Kid?” Jacques asks, when he seems to realize The Janitor is purposefully not joining them. 

“My--my closet’s that way,” The Janitor says. 

“You’re coming with us, aren’t ya?” Jacques sounds confused, and his voice is so loud that the rest of the stagehands hear him, and stop their walking. 

Oh, now they’re all looking at him. Julian feels his face grow hot. He doesn’t know what to say. He thought, since The Tower is his home that he would stay here. 

“Dude. It’s really dark in here,” Jacques goes on. “And you nearly took a swan dive off the tower! You don’t want to stay here alone in the dark, do you?” Jacques’s repeated mentioning of the dark makes a shiver run down The Janitor’s spine, makes him wonder if Jacques realizes how scared the near total darkness makes him feel. 

“Yeah. It’s very dark. And quiet,” Francois echos, to a chorus of the others ‘mm-hmms.’ 

“You want me to come?” Julian asks, though that’s not what he meant to say at all. He’s just...he’s just a little overwhelmed. Can you blame him? It’s been a long night. 

“Of course we do!” Jacques and Leticia say at the same time. Again everyone else is agreeing. 

Well, except for John Cameron who mutters “I don’t care” in a grumpy way that only people who are drunk and sore about losing an argument with Leticia can sound. An elbow to the side created ‘umfff’ later, he corrects himself: “Fine. I care. You’re coming with us. To my home. Where I _definitely_ want all of you.” 

“That’s so sweet, John,” Leticia says, fully aware of both the sarcasm in John Cameron’s voice, and the fact that it was her elbow that induced The Host’s changed response. John seems very aware of the latter part. Leticia knows that an upbeat agreement to John’s sarcasm is the best way to get the man to change his tune. Or at least be less sarcastic. Sometimes that’s the only win one can get. 

Standing there, with everyone looking at him, Julian realizes he can’t say no. He doesn’t want to say no. His face still feels very hot, but he nods. The smiles on everyone’s faces when he nods makes his embarrassment at being the center of attention worth it. 

  
[ **Lesson Four:** Friends want you around. Even the grumpy friends.]

* * *

### FIVE.

The walk to John Cameron’s apartment doesn’t take very long at all, and if The Janitor’s right ankle wasn’t shooting pains, he would enjoy this rare feeling of walking through Paris with a group of people, a group of people who _want_ him with them. Despite his recent near death experience, and the pain, Julian feels almost like he’s invincible walking with the group, with Jacques’s hand still firmly resting on his back, refusing to let The Janitor fall behind, or anything else happen to the smaller man.

It’s all rather pleasant, despite the pain, despite Jacques’s colorful and expletive filled recount of saving The Janitor from falling off The Tower that makes Julian want to hide and cringe away for some reason. He doesn’t, he just continues walking on, warm large hand at his back steering him ever forward. When Jacques is done, leaving out the part where he and Julian clung to each other for a long time in the darkness (The Janitor is so grateful Jacques leaves that out that he could kiss the larger man), Lily, Margot, and Francois all shake their heads. Ahead of them are John Cameron and Leticia. Leticia is part steering, part stabilizing the drunk host by a hand to the back of his neck, again not unlike an unruly kitten, and John makes no indication he heard the story. 

“I think you need to be more careful on The Tower, Julian,” Francois says, to sounds of agreement from the others. 

Julian opens his mouth to agree, that he’ll be more careful, but the words don’t come out. Francois called him by his name, and Lilly looks so horrified by his near fall that The Janitor is almost certain her eyes are wet with unshed tears. Julian is glad she doesn’t cry, he’s not sure he could handle it if _another_ person cried over his accident. 

Finally, he says: “I will.” His voice cracks embarrassingly on the unexpected feelings coursing through him much like the fear had earlier. This...this is a much better feeling, even if it makes his chest hurt. Nobody calls him on it. During the ensuing silence (as silent as a city like Paris at night, even in the midst of a blackout can be), Julian screws up his courage and adds in to the story: “Jacques was great! He caught me and pulled me over so easily!” 

“That’s cause you don’t weigh anything, kid,” Jacques says. 

“And Jacques has a six pack,” Francois teases Jacques. “He’s super strong!” 

The rest of the walk devolves into a one handed shoving match between Jacques and Francois. Jacques seems reluctant to let go of The Janitor and Francois is too good of a friend to tease the pair about that or fight unfairly. 

They are just coming up on the building that houses John Cameron’s apartment when Francois accidentally shoves Jacques as the stagehand is stepping up onto a curb. Jacques stumbles into The Janitor, and they’d go falling to the pavement if not for Margot and Lily reaching out and grabbing them both, everyone laughing. The awkward stumble twists Julian’s ankle, and he can’t help but cry out. 

The Janitor actually clamps a hand over his mouth, as if that will stop the sound that he already made, that everyone already heard. Margot is the first to ask; “Are you okay, Julian?” 

He’s never spoken to her at all, but she looks so concerned. Everyone else is staring at him, save for John Cameron and Leticia who are up ahead -John trying and failing to get his key into the door of his building and Leticia’s too busy using all her energy to keep The Host on his feet and _not_ rip the keys out of his hand to notice what’s keeping the rest of them back. They all look so _concerned_. Still. Even though he’s safe and standing on the ground, no longer in any real danger. It’s confusing, and makes his heart race. 

“ _They are concerned because you are in pain, Julian,_ ” I have to explain. He needs these explanations, sometimes. 

“Oh,” Julian says, to me, which gets a few weird looks, but they all kind of know The Janitor is eccentric, and don’t comment. “Oh,” he says again, and then: “I, uh, twisted my ankle when I almost fell. It was in the railings. That’s what stopped me from falling right away.” 

“You hurt yourself and didn’t say anything?” Jacques asks. There’s something in his voice that The Janitor can’t process. 

Julian looks down at his feet. Looking at all those concerned people staring at him makes his face hot. “No? It wasn’t so bad.” Maybe his face is red from _lying_. 

“We’ll be the judge of that,” Francois says. 

Some kind of silent conversation seems to happen above his downturned head, because after a moment, Jacques scoops Julian up into his arms! 

“What are you doing?” The Janitor asks, confused as the bigger man begins to carry him towards Leticia and John, who are standing at the open door to the apartment. Inside the building the lights are on thanks to the generator as John said they would be. 

“You’re not walkin’ ‘till we see what your ankle looks like,” Jacques tells him. 

_We_. Like they all care about his injury. Like they all want to make sure he’s okay. 

“Oh,” Julian says again, so overwhelmed by this new information that it is all he can say. 

[ **Lesson Five:** Friends care when you are hurting. You don’t have to hide it from them.]

* * *

### \+ ONE. (THE MOST IMPORTANT LESSON OF ALL)

John Cameron’s apartment is on the top floor of the building, the fifth floor. There is an elevator, but even with generator power, the group is not so sure it’s a good idea to take it, so they climb the stairs. The Janitor, snug in Jacques’s arms, with Jacques acting like it takes no effort at all to carry Julian, is silently very grateful he doesn’t have to climb them. Leticia looks upset when she finds out why Jacques was carrying The Janitor, but she doesn’t say anything about it.

Once inside, Julian is blown away how big John Cameron’s home is - it spans the entire top floor of the building! There are no walls, really, separating the kitchen, living and dining rooms. Jacques carefully deposits The Janitor on the short bit of a very large “U” shaped couch. Everyone seems to be looking at Julian as he bends forward to untie his boots. It’s so embarrassing, having everyone’s attention on him, but he can’t escape it now. 

He bites his lip as he pulls off his right boot, not wanting to make that sound that made everyone stare at him again. They aren’t mad that he is in pain, he _knows_ that. They are not like his stepfather who would be angered when Julian cried from any punishments he received or that time the saw touched his hand- _any_ tears were the problem, really, made his stepfather call him names and threaten to ‘toughen him up.’ Everyone is _not_ like that. They are sad that he is hurt. They are worried, but they are not angry. But he doesn’t like everyone being so worried about something as silly as his sprained ankle. 

Jacques, who is hovering right next to him, hisses when he sees Julian’s ankle. It is purple and swollen. “Oh, man. That’s really swollen. Leticia, is it broken?” Jacques says really quickly, all in a rush. He sounds kinda queasy. His hands hover over Julian’s leg, but don’t touch, like he’s afraid to cause any pain. 

The Janitor looks up, surprised by how upset Jacques sounds, how worried. Leticia is looking down at him, his swollen ankle with a deep frown. “I don’t think it’s broken,” he says, quietly. He doesn’t like that everyone looks so worried, about _him_! 

Leticia sits, and pulls on The Janitor’s leg until he gets the picture and puts his injured foot in her lap. She talks him through moving his foot around in various positions, which he can do even though it hurts. After a while, she seemed satisfied and shook her head. “No, I don’t think it’s broken. We should keep an eye on it, but you’re probably fine,” she says with a confidence The Janitor has always envied. She was so sure of things. “You need ice.” 

“Already got some!” Jacques says, standing behind the back of the couch. Julian looks up at him, startled to see that Jacques does have a bundle of ice in a plastic bag. He got it for Julian while Leticia checked on him. 

Leticia takes the bag from Jacques with a soft ‘merci’ and drapes the bag over The Janitor’s ankle. She doesn’t make any move to get out from under Julian’s legs. In fact, she just pats his leg comfortingly when The Janitor couldn’t help but hiss a little at the coldness, and settles back against the couch cushions. 

Everyone else settles down too, no longer staring at The Janitor now that they seem to accept that he isn’t badly hurt. Jacques settles in at his side, still seemingly wanting to keep The Janitor close. Julian leans back against him, sitting sideways on the couch as he is. A few moments of quiet conversation pass over his head - it’s nice, to be around the group. 

Something cold knocks against his arm where it is draped over the back of the couch. “Here,” John Cameron says, catching Julian’s attention. He looks up to see The Host standing there, holding a rocks glass out to him, He has another in his other hand, held close to his chest like John Cameron is worried Leticia will snatch the drink away. “Drink it quick - it’ll help with the pain,” John Cameron tells him. 

The glass is full of a brown liquid. Julian doesn’t know what is inside. He wants to tell John Cameron that the pain isn't all that bad, but Julian thinks that this is just like Jacques carrying him, and Leticia sitting with his injured ankle in her lap. The Host wants to help him. So Julian takes the glass. 

“John,” Leticia says, trying to sound stern, but failing because of the grin on her face. “I think you need to share with the rest of us.” 

“Yeah, let's have a party!” Francois suggests. The others agree, even Julian finds himself nodding his head along to the suggestion. 

John looks them all over, the assembled crew (and The Janitor), and his sour look dissipates, replaced by a smile. John seems to be trying to look resigned, Julian thinks, but is falling somewhat short. He looks _fond_. “Alright, alright,” The Host agrees, making everyone, Julian included, cheer. “But I’m not serving all of you. Julian can’t walk. The rest of you can. Minibar is over-there,” he points to said minibar, and to be honest, it is really too big to be called a mini-anything. Jacques carefully gets up so Julian, who is leaning on him, doesn’t fall over. The crew head towards the minibar with the joy one only gets when presented with an open bar after a long day. 

Leticia smiles at John Cameron. It’s the smile she uses to convince him he has to do things he doesn't want to do, like pose for pictures with fans, or allow high profile audience members into his dressing room after the show wraps for the night. “John, dear, I’m helping Julian elevate his foot,” she tells him, then holds out her hand. 

The Janitor is astounded to watch John Cameron hand over his drink before heading back to the minibar to retrieve another one. Leticia smiles at The Janitor, and holds out her glass. He leans forward and clinks his glass against hers. For some reason, Julian can’t stop smiling. 

“What are we toasting to?” He asks. 

Leticia looks around them, at Francois and Jacques shoving at each other playfully, Lily laughing at something Margot said, and John Cameron, trying not to look too horrified when Jacques mixes vodka with some kind of dark rum. She turns back to The Janitor, a huge smile on her face. “To friendship,” she says, voice full of the same fondness John Cameron was unable to hide. 

And, sitting on the couch with his injured (if only slightly) leg in her lap, surrounded by the noise of the rest of the crew (and talent) of The Orbiting Human Circus, Julian realizes something he hadn’t before, but should have. And he smiles so wide his face hurts. “To friendship,” he echos, before taking a sip of his drink. 

If Leticia sees the sheen of unshed tears in his eyes, she doesn’t say anything. Nor does he comment on hers. 

  
[ **The Most Important Lesson of All:** Julian, Janitor at the Eiffel Tower, has friends.]

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Content Warnings: Julian has a flashback to his childhood, and his stepfather's abuse (it is not graphic, but he is terrified in those moments), a near death experience - Julian nearly falling to his death, & alcohol drinking.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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